Meet the Hunts
by Angelamermaid
Summary: It's a weekend of firsts and revelations when Owen invites Cristina to meet his family. Set sometime after Meredith and Cristina have whole conversations again.
1. Chapter 1

Cristina comes out of surgery to see Owen hanging around the scrub room, trying to look casual. He signals towards the stairwell that goes down to the boiler room and she nods.

On the vent, he wraps his arms around her and kisses her silly for a few minutes. Then he steps off the vent and says, "I have something to ask you."

She steps off, and nods for him to continue.

"Well – it's like this," he stammers. "My family has decided to have a gathering for my mother's birthday next month, and I was wondering if you'd come with me?"

"You want me to meet your family?" Cristina starts pawing at her hair and pacing. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." He watches her pace. "One of my brothers is flying in from Hawaii with his wife, which he rarely does, so my folks decided to make a reunion out of it. It's been a long time since all of us were home at the same time."

"So we're talking your brothers, their wives, their kids, aunts, uncles, third cousins once removed?"

"Brothers, wives, kids."

She stops pacing in front of him. "Isn't – isn't this kind of sudden? We haven't been dating that long, Owen. This is serious."

"What do you mean, serious? It would be our first trip together, yes, but I don't get why you're freaking out."

"But – you're supposed to bring a woman home when your _intentions_ are serious. About the future."

He manages to chuckle. "I thought you didn't care about social conventions that much. Well, don't worry, I invite you to come along with the assurance that I'm not being serious about our future and I have not been shopping for a ring."

"I still don't get why you're asking me, though."

He ducks his head down and shrugs. "I thought it might be fun to go away somewhere together." He looks up at her with that yearning face, the one that is so damn magnetic.

She nibbles her lower lip. "Can I think about it?"

"Yes."

* *

"He wants you to meet his family?" Meredith stops eating and smiles. "That's serious!"

"I know! But he's acting like it's nothing."

"So are you going to go?"

"I don't think so."

Meredith gives her a look. "Talk to me."

Cristina sighs. "Well, he and I are in a good phase right now. God, I hate that he has me thinking about 'phases' and 'relationships'. But it's like he won't let me in any further. He still won't stay over at my apartment, and never lets me stay over at his. Just because he had one nightmare on our first night. Okay, the nightmare was serious, and it is serious if he still has them. But I'm not scared to sleep in the same bed, he's scared to let me. So how can he invite me to meet his parents but not let me sleep in the same bed?"

"Talk to him, Cristina."

"I hate talking these things out."

"I know." Meredith smiles encouragingly. "But you're really crazy about each other, you're _good_ for each other, and talking about serious things with him won't kill you."

"You _sure_ it won't kill me?"

"I am a doctor, I know these things."

**

That night, they go to his small apartment and order in Chinese food. They settle on the couch and watch TV while they eat.

She likes it when they're just hanging out like this. He's learned to relax and joke with her, away from the eyes at the hospital. He has a subtle sense of humour that can move lightning quick. He no longer stumbles for words and his movements are loose and casual.

She doesn't get why _she _is different during these casual times. It seems like the most natural thing to curl up beside him and let him sling an arm around her shoulders. To pull his face down and kiss him just because she wants to. She has never liked being touched, and she certainly has never been called touchy-feely. But Owen keeps reaching out, touching her hands, her face, her hair, and she keeps reaching back.

**

He cleans up after TV while she checks her messages on her Blackberry. He sits down next to her on the couch.

"So have you thought about it? The trip?"

She looks down. "Owen, I still don't know why you're asking me to a family gathering. There will be all of your family plus their wives and kids, and me. I just think I'll feel out of place." She looks at him quickly – _oh, he's got that yearning look again_. She feels that she just caused their relationship to go back a step and feels strange. She feels strange that she is thinking about a relationship. _Can't we just skip the talking and go into your bedroom?_

He nods thoughtfully. "I wouldn't ask if I thought you would hate it. My family is really casual, they'll welcome you with open arms, and I'll make sure they know we're not one step away from getting engaged. I think my parents would like you, my father's a veterinarian and my mother is a nurse. They love to talk science and geek stuff all the time and so do you."

"Tell me about them," she says, sitting back.

"Well, my parents got married right before my father went to Vietnam as a medic. I was born while he was away, and then my brothers were born when he came back. Bryan and Dylan are dentists who married dentists, Cameron, Cam, is the one in Hawaii, he's an engineer and his wife is an architect, and Ethan, the youngest – he's studying pre-law. I think his wife is a teacher. We have fun when we get together. Our tradition is to playtouch football whenever we're home – and that includes my sisters-in-law."

"Are you expecting _me_ to play touch football?"

"Have you ever played it?"

"No."

"Then yes." He grins. "I want you to _try_ it to see if you like it. It gets pretty competitive, and you'll like that. I bet you were pretty fierce in gym class."

"I might have made a few little kids cry in my time," she admits. "But I haven't played any sports since then. Touch football, huh? I was a little afraid that I'd be stuck with all the wives and your mom in the kitchen."

"Ha! My mother says she taught us all to cook and help out around the house so we could live independently and not starve or run out of clean underwear. We think she just hates to cook and clean, like somebody I know, so she got us to do it." He pauses. "And my sisters-in-laws aren't June Cleaver either."

He reaches over and holds her left hand, tracing patterns in her palm. She senses his nervousness. She takes a deep breath._ Here goes nothing._

"Owen, where would I sleep?"

"Where would you _sleep_?"

"Where would I sleep if I went with you? You won't let me sleep in the same bed as you, so where would I sleep?"

He exhales. "It's not that I won't _let_ you, I just don't want to accidentally hit you."

"So you won't let me." She removes her hand from his and crosses her arms over her chest. "I mean, you immediately bolt after sex if we're at my place, or if we're here, you're rolling out of bed and getting dressed to drive me home. It's the same as not letting me, as far as I am concerned."

He looks at her curiously. "That really bothers you?"

She nods and looks down.

"You want to – cuddle after?" She looks up to see him attempting to smile.

"That's not it. It's how you pay very close attention to me during sex, leaving your fingerprints over every inch of me, and that is _not_ a complaint, because you're _good_ and it makes feel that what we have is amazing, then boom, you're out of the bed. It feels like you're hot and cold." _Did I just talk about us being amazing?_

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.

She uncrosses her arms and takes his right hand into her hands. "Owen, do you have nightmares every night?"

He shakes his head. "Not any more, but I do get them."

"Are they always – do they make you thrash around like the one I saw?"

"Sometimes."

She softly caresses his hand. "I trust you, Owen. So much so, that I think even subconsciously you couldn't hurt me. I don't pretend to understand what it's like to be like you, and I do respect that what happened in Iraq changed you in ways that I can't ever know, but I trust you, and it would be nice if you trusted yourself with me and didn't just jump out of bed after."

He looks at her. "You're really willing to take your chances with me?"

She nods.

"Does that mean you'll come with me if we can sleep in the same bed?"

"I see what you did there."

His eyes twinkle playfully. "So?"

"So if I were to go, I'd go as your what? Significant other? Girlfriend?"

"I like the sound of girlfriend." He looks at her. "_So?_"

"_If_ I try touch football and I hate it, I'm going to sit on the sidelines after, just so you know."

"Does _that_ mean you're coming?"

She takes in another deep breath. "I have something to confess."

He nods for her to go on.

"I've never gone home to meet a boyfriend's parents before. I've always been more interested in surgery than relationships. I have no idea of what I'm getting myself into."

He smiles. "I'll take good care of you."

She shakes her head and smiles back. He watches her carefully. _If we go away, we can be like this for one whole weekend, just hanging out, casual, without getting in Callie's way, away from the gossips at the hospital_. "I suppose there's a first time for everything. Okay, I'll go with you," she says.

He smiles and leans over to kiss her. She holds onto his face and deepens the kiss. He lifts the hem of her shirt, his fingers caressing the skin on the small of her back. Soon she's flat on her back on the couch, unhooking her bra, as he's pulling off his shirt.

"Hey Cristina?"

"Yes?"

"Want to spend the night?"

**

Lying on her side in his bed, Cristina watches Owen sleep. She longs to run her fingers over his face – he has such interesting cheekbones, his whole face is an intriguing composition of planes and angles. But she lets him sleep. _If he's sleeping without a nightmare, that's a good thing_.

She props herself up on one elbow and continues to watch him in the soft light of his bedroom. _So Meredith was right. Talking about it did not kill me_. And now she has the pleasure of watching him sleep, his body relaxed, his face unguarded, with a vulnerability that she doesn't get to see when he's awake.


	2. Chapter 2

He picks her up after work on a Friday, and they drive down the coast. They spiritedly debate Stones vs. the Beatles and share stories about concerts they have been to. They grab burgers from a truck stop and keep going.

Gradually, she feels nervous. _What was I thinking, agreeing to spend the weekend with people I don't know?_ Owen seems nervous about something too, he becomes less chatty and more brooding.

They pull up to a cozy two-story home in a quiet suburb. She is startled by the sheer number of people that pour out to greet them. Owen is swamped by small children clamouring for "Uncle Owen", plus the rest of his family. _If they try to hug me, I'm jumping back into the SUV_.

Owen, ever the gentleman, introduces her to his parents first. She's not surprised that they are casually friendly in a somewhat hippie way. His father, Jon, is as tall as Owen, and greets her shyly. His mother "Call me Charlie" is as short and rounded as Bailey, but redheaded and blue-eyed like Owen. Then she's introduced to a gaggle of redheaded brothers and effusive sisters-in-law, and several children ranging in age from a baby to a ten year old.

Charlie shows them where they will sleep – Owen's childhood bedroom, now her painting studio. Her art supplies have been shoved haphazardly against the walls, and a bed has been made up out of a camp bed and spare blankets.

"It'll be like camping," Owen chuckles, sitting down on the bed as Charlie leaves them alone to get settled.

"I don't camp," she notes dryly. "So this was your room?"

"Yep! It's the smallest bedroom, but I picked it out when we moved here so I got to have my own room without my little brothers breaking my stuff."

She nods, absentmindedly looking around the room. She tries to imagine what it must have looked like, filled with Owen's mementoes and toys, and fails. _What was he like as a child?_

"Look at this." He jumps up and points out marks on the doorframe.

"Your growth chart," she notes with amusement. "You grew tall fast."

"Runs in the family."

"I noticed. Even your sisters-in-law are tall. Only your mom is shorter than me."

"Are you okay with this?" he asks, carefully watching her. "I didn't think to ask if you'd prefer a motel instead. We all just pile in and my parents always find a space for everyone to sleep."

She shrugs. "You have a big family and I'm an only child, so I'm not used to so many people in one house. I'll live."

He nods, satisfied. Then smiles. "Hey, one of my teenage fantasies just came true!"

"Your _what_?"

He wraps his arms around her. "I finally have a hot chick in my room!"

She rolls her eyes yet moves in to kiss him. The door bangs open and two red-haired boys walk in. "Oh yuck!"

"Don't you know how to knock?" Owen asks, grabbing one of the boys and tickling him.

"Grampa said to tell you he has beer and snacks in the kitchen," the other boy announces.

"Well let's go then," Owen says.

**

After a bite to eat, washed down with beer, Cristina gets a tour of the Hunt family home from Owen and his parents. The home is somewhat cluttered, especially with all of the people crammed inside of it. She is relieved that they aren't overly neat, like her.

They go down to the basement, currently filled with sleeping bags for the older grandchildren.

"I have to show you my special room," Jon Hunt says, reaching for a door. She notices that Owen is watching her reaction carefully.

Jon beckons her inside as he turns on the overhead light.

"A train room!" she smiles in surprise. In front of her is a train table with an elaborate model train layout and dioramas. The walls are covered with shelves crammed full of trains and parts.

"You like model trains," Owen notes with surprise as Jon beams.

"Are you kidding? My father had a train room, but nothing as big as this. And his layout was N scale like yours. I helped him put together the buildings from kits." She bends down for a closer look at a miniature farm.

"Owen, you've made your father very happy," Charlie smiles. "One of you boys finally brought home a woman who likes model trains. You're going to be his favourite daughter-in-" Cristina looks up, eyebrows raised. "Ooops, sorry, Owen said not to assume anything."

"It's all right," Cristina says, turning her attention back to the table. "_Nice_ work on the river here."

"Owen helped with that," Jon says, stepping forward eagerly. "_He_ helped _me_ put together a lot of these buildings here."

**

That night, after finishing the tour and sitting up chatting with the adults, they finally go to bed.

"You ready for me to turn out the light?" Owen asks, as Cristina puts her toothbrush away in her bag.

"Yep."

They crawl underneath the blankets and Cristina snuggles close to Owen as he puts an arm around her shoulders.

"Look up," he whispers.

She looks up. "Oh _wow_, Owen! Who did that?"

He laughs. "My mother."

"Your mother painted constellations? On the ceiling? That glow in the dark? That must have taken her a long time!"

"When I started getting interested in astronomy, she bought a book and painted them so I could learn how to recognize them."

"Your mother is _much_ cooler than mine. My mother freaked when I drew math equations on the wall with crayon."

"Your dad sounds like he was cool." He kisses her forehead.

"He was," she sighs. They lie in a comfortable silence, both searching out the constellations until they fade.

"So you're okay so far?" he asks.

"I am, yes." She pauses to collect her thoughts, stroking his arm. "Your parents are nice, your whole family is, actually. Very welcoming. I'm glad I came. I didn't know we both liked model trains."

"Some day, I'm going to have a train room too. That was one of the things I didn't like about the Army moving me around all the time – no way to set up a decent train table."

"I should get one too. We could give each other buildings for our birthdays. And we should go to a model train show together, Seattle has a good one."

"Sounds good."

**

Cristina wakes up early in the morning, partly out of habit, and partly because of her needs. She quietly crawls out of the bed and goes off to the bathroom.

When she comes out, she is surprised to see Charlie waiting outside, dressed in her robe. "Is everything okay, Cristina?"

She nods. "Yes, thank you."

Charlie smiles softly. "I heard you up and I was afraid that Owen was having another of his nightmares."

Cristina raises her eyebrows curiously. "No, not tonight."

"Good," Charlie nods. "Would you like to join me for some tea downstairs?"

**

Cristina sits down at the table while Charlie plugs in the kettle.

"Owen had terrible nightmares every night when he first came back after being discharged. He wouldn't talk about them. Then he up and left for Seattle and hasn't been back since. I've been worried about him."

She joins Cristina at the table. "I'm not asking you to tell me anything you don't want to, Cristina. But I am curious about how my boy is doing."

Cristina nods. "I've only seen one nightmare. He says that he doesn't get them every night. He's – doing okay, as far as I know. He doesn't like to talk about it with me, either."

"Can I ask when you met?"

"We met on his last leave before he went back to Iraq, before the attack. We met at the hospital where we both work now, he had helped with an accident and rode in on the ambulance because he'd trached a guy and was keeping him alive." _And then I stapled his ass shut and he pulled an icicle out of me and kissed me like he knew me and I haven't been the same since._

"Sounds like Owen."

"Tell me about him as a boy."

Charlie smiles. "I don't know if you know this, but he was born while Jon was in Vietnam."

"That, I know."

"Ah. My friends and family were so upset at the thought of me being alone with a baby, but you know what? Having him saved my sanity. I missed Jon very much, but once I had his son, I was so busy that I didn't spend all day missing him, like I did before. Owen was a great distraction. He was always curious, he crawled early, he walked early, just so he could get his hands on stuff and figure them out."

Charlie laughs. "A lot of people said that I should find him a male role model until Jon came back, but I ignored them. I figured I was as good as any man, I was a tomboy growing up, I played with my brother's trains and popped him a good one when that upset him."

Cristina smiles.

"So it was just Owen and me for a while. He kept me very busy with his curiosity, and I loved it. I still missed Jon, but I loved that he left me with a bright and active son. Even when he came back, and the other boys started to appear, Owen and I had a special bond."

Charlie's blue eyes darken. "And then that god-damned war _broke_ him."

Cristina raises her eyebrows.

"Pardon my language, but it's true. He's changed and I hate that. It's not his fault, I know that, but I hate what it did to him, that he doesn't tell me stuff any more."

Cristina, at a loss for words, gets up to unplug the now whistling kettle.

"I'll get that, sit down."

Cristina sits down again and watches as Charlie puts tea bags into two cups, pours the water in, then brings the cups to the table.

"I'm afraid I'm not the fanciest hostess," she smiles and shrugs.

"It's all right, I'm not the fanciest guest."

Charlie smiles at Cristina. "I like your style. Do you know what Owen said about you when he called to say he was bringing you?"

"What?"

"He said, 'Mom, she's smart, she tells the truth and she doesn't beat around the bush. You'll like her.' And he was right."

Cristina smiles. "Well, he was right about me liking your family too." She pauses, a little appalled and surprised at how sociable she's being. "Listen, Owen – he's trying. Trying to get through what happened and figuring out how to keep on going day to day. I only met him the one time before, but I can tell that he's changed. But – but he's okay."

Charlie smiles softly. "I'm glad he has you."

**

A couple of hours later, Owen makes his way downstairs. He's surprised to see Cristina and Charlie quietly laughing over something on the couch.

"What are you two laughing –" He looks. "Oh Mom, you didn't!"

"_Nice_ pictures," Cristina teases, pointing to the open album in her lap. "I really like this one of you in Grade Eight –"

"Nine."

"Whatever. You could play connect the dots on your face."

"Thanks Mom," Owen grumbles, sitting down next to Cristina. "And you're mean, Cristina."

She laughs and kisses his cheek. "Apparently you _like_ that I don't beat around the bush."

He groans, "What else has she told you?" as the women laugh.

"Can we come up now?" a small child yells from the basement.

"Time for Gramma to make breakfast," Charlie notes, standing up. "Hope you like cereal, Cristina."

"Sounds good."

"Let's go to the porch," Owen says, pulling Cristina up and out the door before she can say a word.

"Owen, what's wrong, did you have a nightmare?"

"Did I?" he asks her, frowning.

"No, why are you asking me?"

"I woke up and you weren't there. I thought something was wrong."

"Nothing is wrong, you didn't have a nightmare," she assures him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I got up early like I always do, your mom was up, we went downstairs to have some tea and we just kept talking."

"That's all?"

"That's all. Your mom is so cool, we were having fun together. And she gave me _excellent_ dirt on you." She nuzzles his neck.

He chuckles. "Maybe it was a mistake bringing you after all."

"Ha ha."

"So when do I get to meet _your_ mother?"

"Never."

"Ha ha."

"Count on it." They kiss. "So what are we doing today?"

"There's breakfast, and then we'll probably hang out here for the morning, have lunch, then go to the park down the street for football."

"Yay."

"You_ could_ watch the kids if you really don't want to play."

"I'll play!" They kiss again.


	3. Chapter 3

"Okay, let's go over the game again," Owen coaches as they walk to the park.

"The centre passes the ball to the quarterback who throws it to – to a receiver who tries to get a touchdown?" Cristina pauses. "And touchdowns are a good thing for the team I'm on."

"You got it!" He smiles down at her as they arrive. Jon and Charlie herd the grandchildren to the picnic tables and playground. Everyone else heads for the open play area.

"I have an idea for teams – men versus women," Cara Hunt suggests slyly. "I think Cristina looks scrappy!"

Everyone laughs as Cristina shrugs. "If you're willing to take on a rookie, sure. Oh stop laughing, Owen."

"Owen, are you laughing because Cara's right or because she's wrong?" Dylan asks.

"Cara's right," Owen smiles as he kisses Cristina's forehead before she goes off to huddle with the other women. "Be on your guard, men."

**

A couple of hours later, the score is tied. The teams huddle.

"Okay, we have the ball this round. Michi, you be the centre, Cara is quarterback, and she tosses to Amanda," Lauren decides. "And Cristina, our scrappy little rookie, will give the guys hell."

Cristina laughs. This has been a lot more fun than she expected. Although she is exhausted from playing sports for the first time in years.

They bump fists and go into position. Michi passes to Cara as planned, but four men converge in front of Amanda. Cara turns around and snaps the ball to Cristina, who is surprised but manages to catch it. She turns towards the end zone, with Cam running after her. She feels her sneaker land the wrong way, and trips, dropping the ball, and falling face first, then Cam trips on her and lands on top of her, pushing her face into the dirt by accident.

"Ow!" she laughs, turning her head away from the dirt and towards the players, and Cam laughs on top of her, which makes her laugh again. Then she tastes blood.

"Off her. Now!" Owen barks out of nowhere. "I said NOW, damn it!" Cristina feels Cam's weight lifting off of her. She rolls over and stops smiling as she sees Owen is pulling Cam off of her with a dark expression. He reaches for her face. "Your nose is bleeding."

Cristina notices that everyone is silent and staring at Owen in shock. Cam says, "It was an accident, sorry Cristina."

"It's okay, Cam," she says as Owen gingerly touches her nose. "Owen, I just tripped, and then he tripped on me. It was an accident, that's all. And my nose is not broken, stop touching it!"

He continues his examination as Charlie runs up with some napkins. "Why don't you go help Dad with setting the tables or keep an eye on the kids?" she suggests to the players. They disperse, glancing back in confusion.

"Looks like a simple nosebleed," Charlie observes softly. "Here, sit up and tilt your head back."

Cristina lets Owen and Charlie pull her to a sitting position, and tilts her head back. Owen silently starts cleaning up her face with the napkins.

"I'll go get some water to help with that," Charlie decides. She claps Owen on the shoulder before walking away. "She's all right, it was just an accident."

"Owen, I tripped over my own feet," Cristina says. She lowers her voice. "Talk to me."

He sighs. "I reacted like a jerk, didn't I?"

"Yes. What happened?"

"I saw blood on your face and it triggered something."

"What?"

"My saviour complex."

"Oh _that_." She punches his shoulder playfully. "That gets you into a lot of trouble."

Charlie comes back with a bottle of water. Owen stands up. "Mom, can you help Cristina? I need to go talk with Cam."

"Of course." Charlie dampens a napkin and starts washing Cristina's face. She asks quietly, "Does he act like _that_ every time he sees blood?"

"No," Cristina says. "No, that was new." She tries to make light of it. "He can be overprotective of me, always trying to be the hero rescuing the princess. I'm always telling him to knock it off. He knows he over-reacted."

"That's good," Charlie says. "There, it looks your nose has stopped bleeding and I got all the dirt and blood off of your face. Time for a burger."

"Thanks Charlie." Cristina tilts her head forward, holding a napkin under her nose just in case. "I think I'm good."

**

After a barbecue supper, and gifts for Charlie, they start to pack up and go home. Cristina is lost in thought, so Owen takes her aside to show her the pond on the other side of the park.

"So, nosebleed aside, how did you like your first game of touch football?"

"It was awesome. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Are you okay?" he asks.

She blurts out, "Owen, you put my name with yours on the tag on your mother's present."

"So? You didn't like the book?"

"No, it's a good choice." She sighs. "It makes us sound like an official couple. 'Owen and Cristina'".

He looks at her carefully. "Is that a problem?"

"Oh! No," she says, realizing that she's sending out the wrong message. "This is coming out all wrong, I suck at talking about relationships." She takes a deep breath, as he waits with an amused expression. "I wouldn't say that you are telling me who or what I should be, you just – you just _know_ things about me, some things I don't even know. Like perhaps we _are_ 'Owen and Cristina', I just never thought of us that way, and you knew that I'm someone who can kick ass in touch football."

"Ah," he nods. "I think I understand. And _yes,_ you can kick ass. Impressive work, Yang, scaring the crap out of us manly men."

"Can we play tomorrow? If my muscles recover from today."

"I'm not sure we're recovered from you chasing us all over the field. You _are_ scrappy."

"That, I knew."

"Let's go help clean up," he says, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

**

Back at the house, Ethan and Michi announce that they have a surprise gift that they're saving for right before the kids go to bed. That helps the kids get through their baths faster as the grownups continue to clean up.

"Mom, where is your camera?" Owen asks, coming into the kitchen as Charlie and Cristina are at the sink.

"In the living room, what do you want a picture of?"

"Cristina washing dishes!" He laughs and jumps out of the way as she flings a handful of suds at him. He runs out of the room as she chases him, and is stopped by a couple of brothers in the hall. She catches up to him and grabs him from behind and they laugh and fall into the living room, and end up on the couch in a howling heap, managing to avoid falling on everyone else in the room.

"Are you sure you're not getting married?" Amanda asks with a smirk.

"Stop that," Cristina laughs, trying to catch her breath. "No marriage talk!"

"Shame! We want you on our team all the time, Cristina."

"Okay everybody, come out to the back yard!" Ethan shouts. Owen and Cristina stay on the couch, still laughing, as the others start to leave.

"I like your laugh," Owen says in Cristina's ear.

"I like that you make me laugh," she says, leaning back into his arms. "This has been a great day."

"I'm glad you came."

"Me too. What do you think is happening outside?"

"I don't know, but let's go see." They reluctantly part and head towards the back door, vaguely hearing Ethan count down to something.

"What's that popping sound?" Cristina wonders, going to a window. "Sounds like - oh! Firecrackers! Come see!"

She turns around and sees an Owen that she's never seen, face white, eyes dark, and trembling with rage. "_Owen?_"

"Stop it," he growls. "Stop it!"

"Owen!" she gasps, as he suddenly bolts past her and pulls the door open.

"STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!" Owen yells, as Cristina runs after him. "STOP IT!"

"Dude, chill," Ethan says, turning towards them, holding more firecrackers. "It's just –" He's cut off as Owen punches him, knocking him to the ground.

Everyone stares in shock at Owen, who is visibly struggling for control. He turns around and runs for the street. Dylan and Lauren start herding the children back into the house as Charlie bends over to check on Ethan, and everyone else turns to Cristina for an explanation.

"It was the sound," Cristina says grimly. "The firecrackers sounded like gunfire from inside and he didn't know what was making the sound and it triggered him."

"Oh _shit!_" Ethan swears, rubbing his jaw. "I'm a goddamned idiot."

"You didn't know," Charlie says. "You didn't know he'd be triggered, Ethan."

"I'm sorry Cristina," Ethan says, as Cam and Bryan help him up. "I really wasn't thinking about Owen and I screwed up."

Cristina nods to Ethan. "I know you didn't mean it. Sorry you got punched."

"Oh my god, poor Owen," Cara whispers. "Is_ this_ what life is like for him now?"

Cristina looks toward the street where Owen went.

"Better go after him," Jon says softly, clasping Cristina's shoulder. "I think you know him best now." He smiles sadly down at her. "He probably went to the park."

She looks him straight in the eye and says, "I'll find him."


	4. Chapter 4

Cristina runs to the park, unable to see Owen in the streetlights. She arrives at the unlit park, huffing and puffing, staring helplessly into the dark.

"Owen?"

She stops and tries to catch her breath. She listens, but can't hear anything but normal residential noises. She tentatively walks into the park, peering around. _Wish I had a flashlight._ Her eyes starting to adjust to the soft moonlight, she steps towards the picnic area where they ate earlier.

"Owen? It's me, Cristina, I'm alone."

Suddenly something rushes out of the bushes and runs by her. She jumps and squeaks before realizing it was a cat.

"I hate this," she mutters. She walks around in the open area of the park, peering into the shadows. Tentatively, she walks closer to the trees and bushes, leaving the relative safety of the open area. Finally she hears heavy shaky breathing coming from behind a couple of trees.

"Owen?" No answer.

She carefully steps around some bushes and sees him. From the side, she can see that Owen is sitting down, head and shoulders hunched down, shaking and fighting for control of his breathing. She squelches the gasp that almost made it to her lips. _Oh shit, I've never seen him this bad._

She steps back so he can't see her. _What do I do what do I do?_ She takes a deep breath. _He would not want me to see him like this._

She steps backward another step and trips over a rock, falling on her rear with an "oof!" _Goddamnit._

"Who's there?" Owen asks with a raspy, shaky voice.

"It's me, your klutzy girlfriend," she says, getting up. "I'm alone."

"Go away. Please."

"I can't. I can't leave you alone."

He doesn't respond.

"Ethan is sorry. He didn't think about what the firecrackers would sound like to you."

Owen mutters something she can't hear.

"I'm worried about you, Owen. Can I come over to where you are?"

"No."

She runs her fingers through her hair, and shuffles her feet. _What would Owen do?_ She pauses. _He would listen to his gut._

She walks over and crouches in front of him.

"There you are," she says softly. She observes him. He's still shaky, but his breathing is slowing down. Tentatively, she reaches out and strokes his hair. He just shakes and keeps his head down. She continues to stroke his hair softly, eventually shifting her position so she's kneeling. His breathing slows down further and he mumbles, "_shit_."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head.

"Ethan felt terrible," she says, gently tilting his head up so she can start rubbing his temples. He keeps his eyes cast downward. "Nobody blames you, they just didn't know …"

"I punched my _brother_," Owen grumbles, pushing her hands away. She sits back on her heels and waits. He runs his fingers through his hair. "Jesus Christ, I'm messed up. What the hell was I thinking, coming to a family reunion."

"You didn't know that would happen."

"It's _more_ than that!"

She opens her mouth – and then closes it. She lets him find the words.

"I – I thought that if we all got together, it would feel like before – before. And it did, mostly. But I could see them looking at me, here and there, watching me, like they never did before. Like I'm this broken thing. There's no way it can be like before when they keep looking at me like that."

She nods. "Your mother has been very worried about you," she says softly. "They care about you very much, Owen. What happened tonight was something that they couldn't foresee, and it wasn't deliberate."

He nods. "And I go and blow up and ruin everything. _Twice_." She reaches out again and rubs his temples. This time, he lets her.

"I think it will be all right. They really do love you, they just – they just don't know you very much right now."

He sighs and gestures for her to sit down next to him, which she does. She leans against his shoulder, watching his face.

"Want to know why I really asked you to come here this weekend?"

"Why?"

"Because you're the person who knows me best in the after and I wanted you close to me."

She smiles.

"But you'd be better off without me and you should get the hell away from me," he says gruffly.

She draws in a sharp breath, sits up, and stares at him.

"I mean it, I'm fucked up. Haven't you put up with enough of my crap? You should go back to the house, pack your stuff, and leave. You can go now, if you'd like." His voice is cool and level, but there is a very queer flat tone to it.

She looks away, feeling like she's been punched in the stomach. She looks at him again, sitting perfectly still, his head and shoulders are still downcast.

She gathers her thoughts, then speaks. "No."

"No?"

"No," she declares calmly. "No, I am not getting the hell away from you, no, I am not going back to the house without you, no, I am not leaving without you, and no, I am _not_ better off without you. I am not going anywhere."

"Why not?"

"Because I won't. I'm staying with you, like I have all along."

"_Why not?_"

"_Because I'm falling in love with you, Owen!_" she snaps. "Quit trying to shut me out!"

He looks up at her quickly. She claps her hands over her mouth, brown eyes wide with surprise. _Did I just say_ that_?_

He peers at her, confused. "Did – did you just …?"

"Uh huh," she moans. She feels like she is standing on the edge of a cliff somewhere. _Do I dive in?_

His mouth twitches. "You said you were _falling in love_ with me?"

"I know!" she moans again, burying her face in her hands. "Sorry!"

He's silent. She peeks at him through her fingers. He still looks confused.

"You're _sorry_?"

"I _told_ you I suck at talking about relationships," she mutters, throwing her hands into the air. He unexpectedly chuckles, then. "It's not funny, Owen."

"I really can not understand you sometimes," he smiles, rubbing his beard.

"We need a vent," she mutters. "A vent to blow away all of this confusion. Things are easier on the vent."

"But the vent is a distraction, and this is real life," he says softly.

"Very real," she agrees.

"What are you sorry about?"

"The way that I said that I was falling in love with you. Not very romantic or smooth. And you in the middle of a crisis." She looks down at her hands.

"Ah. So you're not sorry that you're falling in love with me?"

She looks up at him. He is smiling patiently, but she catches the intense yearning in his eyes. _I have no idea of what I'm getting myself into. Oh well_. "I am not sorry about that at all."

"C'mere, you." He sighs and reaches out to her then, pulling her onto his lap, cradling her in his arms. She settles against his chest, comfortably tucking her head under his chin. They sit in the silence of the trees.

"I hope you can still put up with me, because I believe I'm falling in love with you too," he says quietly, stroking her hair. "You're smart and beautiful and funny, and very confusing, but it's fun trying to figure you out. You're certainly not boring. And I do appreciate that you won't abandon me in the middle of a crisis."

She smiles contentedly. "Hey, I just had another first this weekend."

"What was that?"

"For the first time, I was the first person to say the word 'love' in a relationship," she murmurs, tilting her head up to kiss him. "And I really meant it. You are a good man and you are not getting rid of me any time soon."

He kisses her then, with a sudden and fierce hunger. She opens her mouth and slides her tongue against his, as he lowers her to the ground, then slides his hands under her shirt. _I've never made love in a park before …_

"Helloo?" They hear Charlie's voice from the open area of the park. "Owen? Cristina?" Owen groans softly and rests his forehead against Cristina's.

"It'll be fine," she whispers, reaching up to caress his face. "I'm with you."

He nods and stands up, then reaches down and helps her up. Hand in hand, they make their way towards his family, searching the park with flashlights. "Hey, we're over here."

"Owen!" Charlie gasps, running towards them, followed by Jon and Ethan. She flings her arms around Owen, followed by Ethan.

"Owen, I'm-"

"_I'm_ sorry!" The brothers man-hug and then Owen starts checking Ethan's jaw.

Cristina feels a hand on her shoulder. She looks up at the gently smiling face of Jon. "Thank you," he says softly. She smiles and nods at him, patting his hand.

**

Back at the Hunt house, Cristina can tell that Owen is getting very tired of being the centre of attention, as the family fusses around him and tries to anticipate his every need and thought. She pulls Charlie aside.

"Do you guys have any board games or something? I think all of the attention is making Owen very self-conscious."

Charlie smiles and nods. "Good thought." She goes into the living room and asks, "Okay, who wants to play a game of something? Scrabble? Monopoly?"

"I'll play Monopoly," Owen says, "but only if Cristina is my partner. She's ruthless _and_ scrappy." Laughter rings around the room.

"Okay, I didn't _make_ Izzie cry that one time we played," Cristina retorts. "That girl is just too sensitive. Oh stop laughing." She extends a hand to Owen as he gets up from his chair. "Come on, partner."

"Are you_ sure _you're not getting married any time soon?" Amanda calls out.

"No!"

**

"Ready for me to turn the light off?"

"Yep."

Owen turns off the light and crawls under the blankets with Cristina.

"I forgot how squeaky this bed is," he says. "Some WD-40 and we could do more than sleep."

"What, your parents don't know that you're not a virgin?"

"Nope." They laugh.

"I'm really sore from football, anyways," she admits, cuddling up as he takes her in his arms. "How long were we playing?"

"A couple of hours, I guess."

"Thanks for getting me to try it. That was fun."

"I'm glad." They both look up at the star-studded ceiling.

"Hey Owen," Cristina says. "Want to know why I really came with you?"

"Why?"

"I just wanted to spend a whole weekend with you."

He laughs. "And what a weekend!"

"I know!"

His mouth finds hers and they kiss.

"Well, I'm glad you did come."

"Me too. So what are we doing tomorrow before we leave?"

"Dunno. We could drive around and I could show you the city. What do you want to do?"

"Play with your dad's model trains."

She feels him smile against her face. "What?"

"Not saying."

"Come on, Owen."

"Well, if things were to go in a new direction, like years and years into the future …"

"Yes?"

"You_ would_ be his favourite daughter-in-law." He waits for her protest. "Cristina?"

"Well, I _could_ be. But we're not going to talk about that any time soon, okay?"

"Okay."

"Let's just enjoy the now."

"I like the now."


End file.
